Private Where Control Slips

[Lumiya Dara]

Lumiya remained still as he spoke, though stillness did not come naturally to her. Even now, with the survivors breathing steadily around them and the immediate danger finally beginning to recede, some quiet part of her remained poised to rise the moment someone needed something. But his words settled deeper than she expected. If you fall....all those relying on you will suffer because you are not there.

Her gaze lowered slightly, thoughtful now rather than resistant. The truth in it was difficult to argue against, not because she had never understood it intellectually, but because she rarely applied it to herself with the same compassion she offered everyone else.

The sensation of the Force moving through the strained muscles of her shoulder drew a small breath from her; not pain, exactly, but release. Tension she had been holding without noticing began to loosen beneath his guidance and the warmth of the treated patch. The ache did not vanish. But it softened enough for her to finally feel how exhausted she truly was.

For a long moment, Lumiya said nothing. Then, quietly her voice broke the stillness: “…I’m not very good at stopping.” There was no self-pity in the admission. No attempt to make it sound noble either. Just honesty worn thin by fatigue. Her eyes drifted toward the resting survivors again. One of the patients shifted weakly in their sleep while a nearby medical droid adjusted a monitor with quiet efficiency. No alarms followed. No crisis demanded her immediately. The galaxy did not collapse because she had sat down for two minutes. The realization felt stranger than it should have.

A faint, tired breath escaped her; something almost like reluctant amusement brushing softly through it. “I think,” Lumiya murmured, “some part of me always assumes that if I stop paying attention for even a moment, someone will slip away when I wasn’t looking.” Her fingers rested lightly against the edge of the bunk beside her as she allowed herself, finally, to follow the instruction he had given instead of merely listening to it. Slow breath in. Slow breath out. The tension in her shoulders eased by degrees rather than all at once. Her posture softened slightly as the constant readiness she carried loosened enough to become something sustainable instead of relentless.

Only then did she look back toward him again. “....But you’re right,” she admitted softly. The words came easier now. “They need me steady more than they need me exhausted.” A small silence settled afterward, quieter than the ones before it. Not heavy. Resting. Then, with the faintest trace of warmth returning beneath the exhaustion, Lumiya added: “So I’ll try.”

Tag: Syn

 

[Syn]

Lumiya Dara

He gave her a nod as he was speaking. "You are skilled and selfless. Something powerful for a healer and there are few truly talented or dedicated solely to it. Which makes you invaluable in a galaxy always at war." He said it and only adjusted so his hands were sending more energy into her. "I fight, it is much more rare to have one who heals and looks out for them. That has not changed in nearly a thousand years."He allowed more of it to come as the ship was shifting to allow the medical droids to work and organize the people. The voice coming out. "Do we have a destination in mind? Or do you want me to take them to the nearest crucible medical station?" He looked up. "The medical station we have time to help them along the way."

 

[Lumiya Dara]

The praise settled uneasily against her at first. Not because she thought he was wrong. But because Lumiya had never quite known what to do with being valued for something that simply felt necessary. Healing had never been about recognition to her. It had been the quiet certainty that if someone was suffering and she could help, then she should. Still, his words lingered. A galaxy always at war.

Her gaze lowered briefly toward her hands; marked by shallow cuts, faint bruising, and the lingering evidence of hours spent dragging strangers from wreckage without once stopping to consider herself. The thought that such things made her invaluable felt strangely distant compared to the simple relief of knowing those people were still breathing. “....I don’t know if it’s selflessness,” Lumiya admitted softly after a moment. “I think that I just....” A faint pause followed while she searched for the shape of the thought. “....can’t stand watching someone suffer when there’s still something I might be able to do.” The words came quietly. Without grandeur. Just truth.

She felt the continued warmth of the Force moving carefully through strained muscles and deepening bruises, the tension easing further now that she had finally stopped fighting the need to rest. It left her feeling strangely light and heavy all at once; exhaustion surfacing now that survival no longer demanded she outrun it.

Alema’s voice drew her attention upward again. Destination. For the first time since boarding the ship, Lumiya’s focus shifted beyond immediate stabilization and toward what came after. Her eyes moved slowly across the medical bay; over the survivors resting beneath blankets and monitors, over the droids working with careful efficiency, over the faces that no longer looked quite so close to death. “The medical station,” Lumiya answered gently after a moment. There was no hesitation in it. “They need proper facilities. Surgical support. Recovery beds.” Her gaze lingered briefly on one of the weaker patients. “Some of them won’t survive another transfer if we delay too long.” A quiet breath followed before she looked toward Syn again. “If we have time during the journey, then we use it,” she said softly. “But getting them somewhere stable matters more than anything else now.” Then, after a small pause, the faintest trace of tired warmth touched her expression again as she glanced upward toward the unseen presence of the ship. “And I suspect Alema already knows that.”

Tag: Syn

 

[Syn]

Lumiya Dara

"I know a lot but it is polite to ask. He can't see the navigational screen and ask where I am headed." The ship was saying it and the jedi master looked up. "I can still hear you." He said it and the ship gave a laugh. "I know that is what makes it funny, not finish healing the girl. The nearest station is not far at half speed." The ship was speaking and the jedi master looked for a moment with a small grin. It was all in good humor at least. "See what I have to deal with, these people and you are a welcome from the travel and monotony." The jedi master was allowing the force to finish up as he pulled away and remained there checking with the force. "Are you feeling any different."

 

[Lumiya Dara]

The exchange caught her off guard. Not the words themselves, but the ease between them. For a brief moment, the medical bay no longer felt dominated by injury, exhaustion, and survival. Instead there was something unexpectedly human threaded through it; familiarity, teasing, the kind of companionship built over enough time that concern no longer needed to disguise itself as seriousness all the time. Lumiya found herself watching the interaction quietly before the faintest trace of warmth touched her expression again. Very faint. But real. “I think,” she murmured softly, glancing upward toward the unseen presence within the ship, “that she’s probably right to keep asking.” There was gentle humor beneath the words now, softened further by fatigue.

The quiet laugh that followed from Alema lingered in the air even after the conversation shifted again, leaving the ship feeling strangely alive around them rather than merely advanced.

When Syn spoke of monotony, Lumiya’s gaze returned toward him thoughtfully. “You say that as though rescuing crash survivors from a collapsing wreck is part of your usual routine,” she said softly. The warmth remained there briefly before easing into something calmer again.

Then his question settled between them. Are you feeling any different? Lumiya grew quiet for a moment as she considered it honestly. Her attention turned inward; toward the ache that had settled into her muscles, toward the exhaustion she could finally acknowledge now that she wasn’t forcing herself endlessly forward. Slowly, experimentally, she rolled her left shoulder. The movement still carried soreness, but the sharper strain had eased considerably. The constant tightness beneath her ribs had softened. Even her breathing felt deeper now, less constrained by tension she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying since the crash. “....Yes,” she admitted quietly. The answer surprised her a little. Her gaze lowered briefly to her hands again before lifting back toward him. “Still tired,” she added with gentle honesty. “But not like before.” A small pause followed. “Everything doesn’t feel quite so....” She searched briefly for the right word. “....held together by willpower alone anymore.” The admission came easier than she expected too.

Around them, the steady rhythm of the ship continued uninterrupted. Droids moved carefully between patients. The monitors remained stable. Somewhere deeper within the vessel, the faint hum of engines shifted almost imperceptibly as Alema adjusted course toward the station waiting ahead.

For the first time since the crash, Lumiya allowed herself to lean back slightly in the seat instead of remaining poised to immediately rise again. Not giving up vigilance. Just no longer carrying all of it alone.

Tag: Syn

 

[Syn]

Lumiya Dara

He chuckled to that when he had a small look. "In a way, I travel alone, I fight sithspawn as opposed to many of the duties in the temples. It has allowed me to be able to do a lot more. It also means all of this." He said it without removing his hands but motioned with his head. "Is where I am, a crash is a change of pace when you are battling creatures torn from the nightmares of many or falling into a drengirs pit of horrors. A war hydra's nest." He said it and avoided the leviathan mud pits those mess with Tempest Yore from all the filth and destruction. The jedi master offered a smaller look of acknowledgement when she seemed to be feeling better for the moment. "That is good, it means it is working." He pulled his hands away while finding a place to sit as the seat formed but he looked at her. "So were you attacked?"

 

[Lumiya Dara]

Lumiya listened without interrupting, her attention resting quietly on him as he spoke. As he described battles against sithspawn, war hydras, and things that sounded more like nightmares given form than anything she could easily place within her own experience; her expression didn’t shift into disbelief. If anything, it softened further. Not in awe, but in quiet acknowledgement that different people carried very different kinds of normal.

When the question came, though, she went still. Not tense. Just still. Her gaze drifted briefly away from him, toward the rows of survivors resting under soft medical light. The steady rise and fall of their breathing had become a kind of anchor in the background of everything else. “....I don’t think that I was attacked,” Lumiya said finally, gently. There was no uncertainty in her tone. “The transport was.” A small pause followed as she considered it more carefully. “Or something on it failed.”

Her fingers shifted lightly against her own sleeve as she spoke, as though grounding the thought in something physical made it more certain. “I was just....there when it happened.” The words weren’t dismissive. Just simple fact, offered without weight or self-importance.

Her eyes lifted back toward Syn. “I don’t have enemies like that,” she added softly. Not defensively; but almost as if she was stating something slightly distant from herself. “Most people wouldn’t even know my name, let alone care where I was going.” A faint breath followed that was steadier now than before. “If someone had wanted to stop me,” she continued, “there would have been easier ways to do so than bringing down a transport.” That thought lingered for a moment, then eased.

Lumiya leaned back slightly in her seat, the exhaustion settling in now that the question had passed through her rather than pressed against her. “....I think that it was just an accident that became something worse when it hit the ground,” she said quietly. “And we were the ones who were there to deal with it.”

Her gaze softened a fraction as she looked back at him. “Not everything has intent behind it,” Lumiya added gently. “Sometimes it just....breaks.” She allowed herself a brief pause. “And then people like us are the ones who try to put it back together.”

Tag: Syn

 

[Syn]

Lumiya Dara

He gave a nod to her talking about it and it gave him information for being able to do any number of things. He would be able to check on some of the information and send a report for the others to look into it. For now he remained there as ALema spoke. "We are coming up on the station." She spoke and the jedi master offered his arm for her if she needed it while he was standing there. The viewport showing the crucible station, large, rounded and designed to be a HUB for ships throughout the galaxy as it dwarfs the number of other ships. THe jedi master was moving at they could move towards the hanger bays and his voice came out. "The Crucibles were made by the silver jedi and scattered across multiple galaxies with top of the line medical facilities. To match most of the larger and stronger coreworld hospitals."

 

[Lumiya Dara]

Lumiya’s attention shifted toward the viewport as Alema’s voice carried through the medical bay. For a moment, she forgot her exhaustion entirely. The station filled the stars beyond the glass; immense enough that it seemed less constructed than placed there, like a small world suspended against the dark. Lights traced softly along it's curved structures while streams of distant ships moved around it in careful patterns. Compared to the shattered transport they had left behind, the sight felt almost unreal.

When Syn offered his arm, Lumiya hesitated only briefly before accepting it. Not because she suddenly lacked the strength to stand on her own, but because the exhaustion she had been holding back all this time had finally settled honestly into her limbs. The gesture was practical. Quietly kind. She accepted it with the same simple sincerity it had been offered.

Her gaze remained on the station as the ship guided them toward the hangar approach. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured softly before she could quite stop herself. Not extravagant. Not ornate. But purposeful in a way that resonated deeply with her now that she understood what it existed for.

As he explained the Crucibles, Lumiya listened quietly. Top of the line medical facilities. Strong enough to rival the Core. Her eyes drifted instinctively back toward the resting survivors around them; the ones who, only hours ago, had been buried beneath twisted metal and sand with little hope of surviving the night. A small breath left her. “Then they have a chance,” she said gently. The words carried more weight than anything else she could have said.

Medical droids continued preparing patients for transfer as the ship slowed into docking position. Around them, the atmosphere inside the bay had shifted completely now. No longer survival balanced on the edge of catastrophe. Movement had purpose again. Direction. People would live long enough to recover instead of merely long enough to say goodbye.

Lumiya’s fingers tightened lightly against Syn’s arm for only a moment before easing again, almost absentmindedly grounding herself in the reality of it all. “I don’t think I realized until now how certain I’d become that we were going to lose someone,” she admitted quietly. Her gaze lowered briefly, thoughtful beneath the soft medical light. “But we didn’t.” And for the first time since the transport fell from the sky, the words sounded real when she said them.

Tag: Syn

 

[Syn]

Lumiya Dara

He looked down at her and spoke. "I wouldn't say we won't, there is a danger to it and even with the best medical care things can happen." He said it but there was not surity to it when the ship was coming in. He just looked at Lumiya and offered the moment. "You did well, allow yourself to have the moment. Even if small you can know that you helped them to the best you could and got them here." He said it and it needed to be repeated but the Alema was docking as the Crucible Class Station was within view. He moved as the droids were adjusting the matter of the beddings to have repulsors visible so they could move them. The stations docking arm extending and there were more jedi waiting. "Hopefully you have the moment to join me. I rarely stumble upon other jedi outsideof the temples and it helps to remember why we do what we do."

 

[Lumiya Dara]

Lumiya’s gaze lingered on the survivors as the docking arm extended toward the ship. Even now, as the medical teams waited beyond the airlock and the immediate danger had finally begun to loosen it's grip, part of her attention remained fixed on the quiet rise and fall of breathing, on monitors still steady beneath soft medical light. She listened to Syn’s words carefully; not resisting them this time, though the reminder settled heavily against the fragile relief she had allowed herself to feel. “You’re right,” she admitted softly after a moment. “I know that.” The words carried no bitterness. Only honesty. Experience had taught her too well that survival was not guaranteed simply because people reached a hospital. Sometimes bodies failed anyway. Sometimes healing only bought time instead of recovery. She knew that. But still....

Her eyes lowered briefly before lifting again toward the viewport and the vast station waiting outside. “....I think maybe I just needed one moment,” Lumiya murmured quietly, “where it felt like hope arrived before grief did.” The confession came gently, almost lost beneath the hum of the ship.

Then his next words settled beside it. You did well. For a moment, Lumiya said nothing at all. Praise still sat awkwardly against her, unfamiliar in ways she never quite knew how to navigate. But exhaustion had worn down some of the instinct that usually made her immediately deflect it. Instead, her fingers tightened faintly against her robe before relaxing. “Thank you,” she said softly. And this time she allowed the words to remain there without diminishing them afterward.

Around them, the medical bay shifted fully into motion. Repulsor beds activated one by one beneath the patients while waiting Jedi and medical personnel beyond the docking corridor prepared to receive them. Lumiya watched the organized urgency quietly; the calm precision of people already ready to carry the burden forward from here.

When Syn spoke again, inviting her to join him afterward, surprise flickered briefly across her tired features. Small. Genuine. Her first instinct was almost immediate; to decline politely, to insist she should stay available in case the medical teams needed another pair of hands. The reflex rose automatically. Then she caught herself. Slow breath in. Slow breath out.

They need me steady more than they need me exhausted. The memory of her own words returned unexpectedly. A faint trace of tired warmth touched her expression then as she looked back toward him. “I think,” Lumiya answered gently, “that I’d like that.” The admission felt quieter than she expected.

Her gaze drifted briefly toward the station again before returning to the survivors one last time as the first of the repulsor beds began moving toward the airlock.

“And....” she added softly after a small pause, almost thoughtful now, “I think maybe you’re right about something else too.” Her eyes lifted toward him again. “It does help,” Lumiya said quietly, “to remember we’re not doing it alone.”

Tag: Syn

 

[Syn]

Lumiya Dara

He gave her a nod as the airlock opened. Medical droids and jedi were coming as they brought their equipment to transport and Alema was giving the droids information. THe jedi master allowing himself to check them as they went past. He had one hand up and was checking them with the force as he let Lumiya be there but she was patient and prepared. He stayed with them following the droids as they were bringing them outof the ship with a small look. He followed in a moment until he walked into the medical station and they were being moved. The sterile scents coming to him.. the patients who were in rooms for different chambers where they would be able to get treated and different sections of the station.

 

[Lumiya Dara]

The station felt impossibly still compared to the chaos they had left behind. Lumiya followed beside Syn in quiet silence as the patients were guided deeper into the Crucible’s medical sectors. Repulsor beds drifted smoothly through wide corridors washed in soft white light while medical droids and Jedi healers moved with practiced coordination around them. Voices remained low here. Calm. Urgent when necessary, but never frantic. The kind of place built to catch people at the edge of disaster and refuse to let them fall further.

For the first time since the transport had fallen from the sky, Lumiya no longer felt responsible for holding every life together with her own hands. Others had taken over now. And they were capable. The realization settled strangely inside her. She watched as one of the younger survivors was guided through a set of transparisteel doors toward surgical recovery, accompanied by two healers speaking softly to keep him conscious. Another patient disappeared into a diagnostic chamber surrounded by scanning lights and hovering instruments. No alarms followed. No desperate rushing. Only care continuing forward in steadier hands than her exhausted body could still provide.

A quiet breath left her. “They’re safe,” Lumiya murmured softly, almost as though she was still testing whether she believed it.

The sterile scent of the station lingered in the air around them; clean and unfamiliar after smoke, blood, and sand. Somewhere beyond the corridor walls, she could hear the distant hum of ship traffic moving through the station’s vast docking arms. Life continuing. Ordinary in a way that felt almost unreal after everything the day had been.

Only then did she finally realize how tired she truly was. Not the sharp exhaustion that demanded action. Something deeper. The kind that arrived only after danger had passed and left the body suddenly aware of every hour it had spent enduring. Lumiya slowed slightly near one of the observation windows overlooking the interior docking ring. Ships moved slowly beyond the glass like drifting stars. “I don’t think I properly thanked you,” she said quietly after a moment, her gaze still resting outward rather than directly on Syn. “Not just for the rescue.” A faint pause followed. “For staying.” Her fingers folded loosely together in front of her robes. “A lot of people would’ve left once the immediate danger passed,” she admitted softly. “Or treated it like duty.” The faintest trace of warmth touched her tired expression then as she finally looked toward him again. “You didn’t.”

The silence that followed felt comfortable now rather than uncertain. Lumiya’s gaze drifted briefly back toward the medical wing corridors where the last of the survivors had disappeared from view. “I think...” she began quietly, then paused as though surprised by the thought before continuing. “I think I’ll remember this place for a long time.” Not because of the crash. Not even because of the fear. But because somewhere between the wreckage, the desert, and this station full of strangers carrying one another forward, something inside her had loosened. The belief that she alone had to hold everything together.

At last, Lumiya allowed herself a small, tired smile. “Though next time,” she added gently, “I would prefer meeting under less catastrophic circumstances.”

Tag: Syn

 

[Syn]

Lumiya Dara

"Agreed." He said it finding a place to sit in front of her now and allowed the force to relax as he has reset the limiters of his robes. His presence held back in most situations before he was looking at her. "It is a jedi's duty to aid life, once I was there too leave without seeing it through or to offer all that I could, to offer all that I am able to bring would have been a disservice to the memories of many others who made it possible for us to get here." He said it though but turned more to look at her. "But how are you feeling? The rest and revitalization will have helped but sleep will be key to your recovery and eaating. You will need to fuel all of that force use you did masterfully."

 

[Lumiya Dara]

Lumiya’s expression softened faintly at that. Not because she thought he was wrong, but because there was something quietly grounding in hearing someone speak about duty without sounding burdened by it. As though helping people had long since stopped being an obligation for him and simply become part of who he was.

Her gaze lowered briefly toward her hands as he spoke about rest, food, sleep. The practical realities of recovery. It almost made her laugh, though the sound never quite left her. “I think,” she admitted softly, “that my body is only just now realizing the last several hours actually happened.” The exhaustion felt heavier here somehow; not sharpened by danger anymore, but settling honestly into muscle and bone now that there was finally space for it. Lumiya leaned back slightly where she stood near the observation window, watching distant ships drift through the docking ring beyond the glass.

When he mentioned her use of the Force, surprise flickered briefly across her features before the faintest trace of self-consciousness followed it. “Masterfully feels generous,” she murmured gently. “I was mostly trying not to lose anyone.” Still, the words lingered with her more than she expected. Her attention returned toward him after a moment, quieter now. “But....thank you.” A small pause followed before she added with tired sincerity: “For seeing the effort anyway.” The faint smile that touched her expression afterward carried more fatigue than amusement now. “And yes,” she admitted softly. “You’re probably right about the sleep.” Her eyes drifted briefly back toward the medical wing. “Though I may need someone to remind me that resting isn’t abandoning people.” The confession came easier than she intended.

Then, after a moment, a gentler warmth returned to her voice. “I’m glad you stayed long enough to ask how I was doing too.”

Tag: Syn

 

[Syn]

Lumiya Dara

His hand came out only to touch her shoulder as he looked down. "Taking care of yourself is not abandoning people. As I said if something happens to you then all the ones you don't want to lose will not have anyone to take care of them. In a dangerous situation you secure yourself first then and the others. Make sure you are able to protect them. If you were drowning you would have them facing the danger not because they will be hurt but because if you are injured you will both drown and it wouldn't have done anything but add to the danger." He said it while he was moving only and motioned. "Come, you will eat something and then can take the moment. THey will alert you should anything happen."

 

[Lumiya Dara]

Lumiya fell quiet beneath his hand on her shoulder. Not because she disagreed with him. In truth, part of her knew he was right almost immediately. The logic of it was difficult to argue against when spoken so plainly. But hearing it and believing it for herself were not entirely the same thing. Her gaze drifted briefly toward the polished floor between them as he spoke about drowning; about how helping someone else meant very little if you destroyed yourself in the process. The imagery settled uncomfortably close to home in ways she couldn’t fully explain. How many times had she pushed past exhaustion simply because someone else needed something first? How often had she convinced herself that stopping, even briefly, meant failing the people depending on her? Too often. The realization sat quietly against her ribs.

When she finally looked back up at him, the tiredness in her expression had softened into something more thoughtful. “You make it sound very obvious,” she murmured gently. There was the faintest trace of warmth in the words now. Not teasing exactly. Just an honest acknowledgement that perhaps she had complicated something simpler than it needed to be. Her eyes lingered on him for another moment before drifting toward the movement further down the corridor; healers passing between recovery chambers, droids transporting supplies, life continuing steadily without demanding her immediate presence every second of it. And somehow... the station hadn’t fallen apart because she stepped away for a few minutes. That thought almost startled her.

A quiet breath escaped her as she finally allowed some of the tension in her shoulders to loosen. “I think,” Lumiya admitted softly, “I’ve spent so long trying to be useful that I forgot people can care whether I’m alright too.” The confession came more quietly than the others had. More fragile. As though she hadn’t intended to say it aloud until the moment it already existed between them. Then, almost as if realizing the weight of the statement herself, she offered him a small, tired smile in an attempt to soften it. “So... alright,” she conceded gently. “I’ll eat something before I collapse dramatically in one of your hallways and embarrass both of us.” The warmth in her expression lingered faintly now as she finally pushed herself away from the observation window. The movement revealed just how tired she truly was; subtle stiffness in her posture, careful economy in her steps, exhaustion woven through grace rather than replacing it. Still, she followed when he motioned for her to come along. Not reluctantly this time. Trusting someone else to keep watch over the people she’d fought so hard to save felt strange. But not impossible anymore.

Tag: Syn

 

[Syn]

Lumiya Dara

"I have had nine hundred years of practice to learn and even more to make mistakes." He said it while leading the way towards the halls to let her go. THe idea of her collapsing was not entirely a good one while he didn't move too fast but opened up into the mess area and there was food being served for them here. With a better look before he was moving and gliding inside the food was laid out on a table with droids replacing the empty pltes. Simple food, that didn't have strong flavor but rices and some breads, fruits and sanwiches that were designed to occupy and fill the stomachs of those who were here and waiting.. there was also the jellied molds with fruit in them that people could eat.

 

[Lumiya Dara]

Lumiya lowered herself carefully into one of the seats at the edge of the mess hall, the movement slower now than it had been earlier; not from injury, but from the kind of exhaustion that only becomes noticeable once the danger is gone. For a moment, she simply sat there. Then she began to eat. Small bites at first. Hesitant in a way that had nothing to do with the food itself and everything to do with the unfamiliarity of stopping. Her shoulders gradually eased as the warmth settled in, steady and simple, grounding her in something that wasn’t urgency or survival.

She glanced once toward Syn as he spoke of his experience, the words drifting past her like something she didn’t need to hold onto tightly anymore. He was already leading a life that didn’t require her constant attention. That realization sat with her quietly. Comfortably, even.

“I’ll be alright,” she said after a moment, voice soft but certain enough to carry without effort. Not reassurance offered out of habit this time. Just truth. Her gaze lingered briefly on him, steady and sincere. “You don’t need to stay with me,” Lumiya added gently. “I know there are still things you need to do here.” A faint pause followed before she looked down at her food again, actually eating this time rather than just holding it. “And....thank you,” she said quietly. “For making sure I didn’t forget to stop.” The words weren’t heavy. They didn’t try to hold anything more than they needed to. Just acknowledgment. Just release.

Outside the mess hall, the station continued moving; steady, purposeful, alive in ways that no longer depended on her to hold it together.

Tag: Syn

 

[Syn]

Lumiya Dara

"I have less to do here then most would here." He said it while looking at her. "In hospitals the sightless don't do much and the sightless who fight sithspawn and usually put others in here even less then that." He said it though while he was getting some food from a droid. Remaining there though as for the moment the jedi master breathed in and allowed the force itself to push around himself. "I do not know the rest of your plans, I have taken you from the world you were going to. Should you require transportation It is the least I can do to aid you in your endeavors." He offered the last with a look though as he took another bite of his food and checked over it.